


I Always Win, Kid

by telekinesiskid



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Abuse, Attempted Gaslighting, Bullying, Competition, Emotional/psychological/verbal bullying, F/M, In which Robbie V. is a borderline psychopath dick, broken leg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2486102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telekinesiskid/pseuds/telekinesiskid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robbie stood tall and dark, a shadow over him. “I know what you’re trying to do, you little twerp. You made a big mistake coming here.”</p><p>“I…” Dipper didn’t know what to say. He felt threatened but he was determined not to look shaken. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Wendy invited me here.”</p><p>[ABANDONED]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a slow Saturday, and Stan had been closing up shop early so he could “take care of some business”, though he never did quite specify what that business was. Not that anyone pressed him too long for a response; vagueness tended to indicate something illegal or something… unpleasant.

Wendy hadn’t been too happy to come into work that day, so she was particularly excited when Stan made a passing comment about taking the rest of the day off. She didn’t hesitate to call her friends and let them know her afternoon was free.

Dipper hovered by the counter, where she routinely put her feet up and read her magazines, and watched her wipe the dirt from her boots off the surface. She caught him staring at her and smiled enthusiastically. “Hey – _great_ news, right, Dips?”

“Haha, yeah,” he said, too loudly, probably. “You seem really happy.”

“Of _course,_ dude – I can’t stand being cooped up in here on Saturdays when all my friends are hanging out without me. I try to tell myself that at least I’m richer than them, but not even _that_ is a comfort with how stingy your great uncle is.”

She laughed – even though it was a legitimate thing to get upset about – and he laughed along with her. “So you’re going to hang out with your friends then?”

“Yep – for once.”

“Well, uh… It’s a nice day.” He turned his head towards the window just to check that it was a nice day and he wasn’t directly lying to her face. “So, you’re doing something… outdoors-y?”

“My crew found this creepy, old, abandoned house and they’re spending the day checking it out. There’s probably _loads_ of cool stuff in there, just waiting to be snagged and put on eBay.”

“Sounds cool.”

He watched her too attentively as she crossed the room, put on her aviator jacket, and pulled her long red hair free. “Hey, Dips – you’re a huge nerd for creepy paraphernalia, right? Maybe you could tag along if you’re not doing anything.”

He jolted. “Wah… R-Really?!”

“Yeah, man.” She dug her hands into her pockets and leaned so casual and cool against the doorframe. “You’re really good at solving mysteries and stuff. You and your brains might come in handy.”

He couldn’t hold back the grin that was tightening his face. “I-I’d lo-… sure!”

“Great!” She opened the front door and gestured outside. “I’ll just be in my car if you want a minute to tell-“

“No, no!” He ran straight over to her, smiling way, way too much, and barrelled through the door, almost tripping up. “I’m good! I’m good to go right now.”

She raised a sceptical eyebrow at him. “Arrre you sure, dude? Shouldn’t you tell your great uncle, or at least your sister that you’re going out?”

He paused for a second before he yelled out, “ _Hey, Mabel – tell Gruncle Stan I’m going out, OK, bye!_ ” and shut the door. He stared at Wendy, laughing nervously. “S-Shall we?”

She laughed at him, touching her hand to his head, and he felt like his bones had gone soggy. “You’re so weird. Alright! Let’s get out of here.”

\------

She drove them in her car for about twenty minutes down a long narrow track out of town. She had her window rolled down, one hand on the steering wheel, and she was singing along to rock music that was before Dipper’s time. She looked so effortlessly adept and cool and gorgeous at everything she did, every move she made.

Dipper was so overwhelmed at this opportunity to ride in _her car with her alone with her_ that he didn’t even know how to react. There was fast-food trash and receipts by his feet, the dashboard was dusty, there was an open travel mug that looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks, but he still felt like _he_ was the mess in all of this. He’d been so nervous that he couldn’t even start any good conversations with her. Besides, he hadn’t heard her sing before.

All fantasies he quietly entertained about her driving him back to her house, to the diner for a date, or to make-out point were destroyed once her friends’ van come into sight. She cried “we’re here!” and Dipper echoed her, meek and disappointed. She threw off her seatbelt and left the car as soon as she’d shut it off.

Dipper slowly followed her over to the group of usual teenagers she hung out with. Wendy greeted everyone with hand claps and bro-fists – everyone, he noted, except for Robbie, who went in for a hug.

Dipper narrowed his eyes at him. He was the same as always, with his greasy hair, his spotty skin, his skinny jean-clad skinny legs, his stupid bleeding heart hoodie, and his guitar slung around him, just to remind everyone at all times that he was cool because he played guitar. Dipper watched coldly as Robbie smoothed his hands up and down Wendy’s back, until Robbie noticed him standing behind them.

Dipper physically recoiled from the intensity of Robbie’s painted eyes. The teenager pulled Wendy back, still keeping an arm around her, and asked rudely, “What’s _he_ doing here?”

Wendy laughed, elbowing him in the ribs. “You guys remember Dipper Pines, right?” The others nodded, smiling at what might be remembered fond memories. Robbie only continued to glare. “Hope you don’t mind – I invited him along. He’s way into these kinds of creepy abodes, right Dipper?”

“Uh, yeah! I am.”

She smiled, gesturing him over before she began to look over the browned, dilapidated house behind them. Wendy asked how the raid was going and Dipper started to walk towards them to hear what her friends had to say, but his path was cut off.

Robbie stood tall and dark, a shadow over him. “I know what you’re trying to do, you little twerp. You made a big mistake coming here.”

“I…” Dipper didn’t know what to say. He felt threatened but he was determined not to look shaken. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Wendy invited me here.”

Robbie exposed his teeth, uttering a noise that was akin to a growl. “Go home, kid.”

Dipper frowned at him. Now Robbie was just being unreasonable. “It would take me _hours_ to walk home.”

“Then start walking.”

Dipper felt a twinge of fear, but Wendy pushed herself between them. “Hey, Dipper, we’re having a bit of trouble getting into the upstairs – the stairs are blocked off and the window up top is too small to climb through. Do you wanna be a little ninja – like back at that haunted convenience store – and check it out for us?”

Dipper looked at Robbie. He could see clearly that Robbie wanted him to say no, excuse himself, and leave them all alone. But Wendy smiled at him encouragingly; she looked like her whole afternoon’s worth depended upon his participation. He went into a bit of haze, imagined himself crawling courageously into the tiny second storey window, and coming back out with a collection of rare and expensive jewels to grace Wendy with. Or maybe some kind of hunting rifle would be more appropriate. Either way, he wanted to impress her. He wanted to look better than Robbie.

“Sure thing, Wendy,” he said, smiling tauntingly at Robbie.

“ _Sweet!_ ” Before Dipper could get a proper sense of how mad Robbie was, Wendy grabbed Dipper by the hand and jogged him over to the side of the house. “Ok, dude, there’s a ladder up there, but you might need help getting up to it.”

“How will- _gah!_ ”

Without much warning, Wendy had put her hands on his waist and lifted him up. Again, so effortless. She must have been pretty strong because she didn’t once complain or falter under his weight.

“Ya got it?” she asked.

“Yep, yep…” Dipper caught onto the ladder and scrambled up it as fast as he could, not turning his head back to Wendy for fear that she’d see just how red he’d gotten. He heard her cry out “good luck!” and then he was on the roof.

He had to be careful where he put his feet. Some shingles were loose, and he feared he would break right through the roof entirely if he stood in one place for too long. He made his way over to what looked like a bedroom window. It had been pried open as far as it could go; too small for a teenager, but he was definitely able to fit through it. He slipped inside, landing on a rug covered in dust and dead bugs.

“Ew…”

As he brushed himself off, he looked around. Everything looked so antique – it was hard to tell how long some of the stuff had been there. There was a made bed with floral sheets, an open closet full of old-lady clothes, and a dresser cluttered with all manner of perfumes, boxes and ornaments. There were no signs of struggle, no signs of a hasty exit. It was as if the owner had just disappeared one day.

He went through the drawers and boxes, finding a whole lot of still-glistening jewellery that he didn’t have nearly enough pocket room to hold. He felt like he’d hit the jackpot. He picked through them all, thinking only of Wendy and what she might like, when he happened upon a silver necklace that was a network of chains and teal gems of varying sizes. Hoping it would be in her tastes, he gently bunched it up, put it in his pocket, and started to crawl through the window again, figuring he’d come back soon.

He could hear Wendy and her friends but he couldn’t see them on the lawn. “Must be inside,” he mumbled. He began to inch toward the ladder, but froze upon seeing Robbie pull himself up. Dipper swore he felt the wind just become a little bit chillier.

“You find anything in there?” Robbie asked, not in a friendly way.

“Yeah, I’m… just going to tell Wendy.”

Robbie wasn’t looking at his face anymore. Dipper looked down and saw part of the necklace chain hanging out of his pocket. He quickly stuffed it back in.

“You bringing her a little something you found, or is that necklace for you?”

Dipper hesitated. “I thought she might like it.”

“Yeah, she probably will,” Robbie said. But his voice was far from encouraging. Dipper was afraid that Robbie would try to take it from him and give it to Wendy himself.

“C-Can you move aside, please?” Dipper asked, gesturing to the ladder. “I need to get down now.”

“Why don’t you jump down? It’ll look cooler.”

“Are you kidding?” Dipper peeked over the edge of the roof. It was a long drop. “No.”

“Are you scared?”

“No!” he replied instinctively, but then he realised that technically he was, but for good reason. “I mean, it would be _dumb_ to jump from this high. That’s like a twenty foot drop.”

“Scaredy-cat, scaredy-cat,” Robbie teased in a low voice.

Dipper was unsettled. “Yeah, I’m gonna… take the _safe_ route. Thanks.”

He watched as Robbie shrugged arrogantly, put his hands in his hoodie pocket, and seemingly began to ignore him, to make his way toward the bedroom window. Dipper put all of his attention into avoiding gaps in the roof and sliding shingles, and ended up closer to the edge of the roof than he’d like to be.

He only had a second to feel alarmed, hearing three quick footsteps right behind him, and then the next he didn’t have anything beneath his feet. He screamed, shrill and unbridled, falling through the air until the biggest crack he’d ever heard in his life sounded right through his entire body.

He collapsed from his failed, hasty attempt at landing. He was screaming and crying with agonised fear, hands inarticulately grasping at the mass amounts of pain pumping out from below his right knee. He heard his name yelled, he saw flashes of people standing around him. But all he was focused on was the pain, and Robbie just out of sight – just leaning over the edge of the roof and staring down.


	2. Chapter 2

Dipper’s first few days in hospital had all become a bit of a blur. Family and friends came to see him but he was usually too woozy from the medication to remember their visits very well. He’d broken his tibia – a displaced fracture, so he’d needed surgery initially. But things had started to calm down a bit now. The swelling of his leg had gone down a little, bruises and scratches he’d obtained were healed, and he’d stopped waking up in the night with sudden jolts that made him think he’d fallen again. No, now he spent his days being more bored than tense – confined to his hospital bed in the children’s ward, his right leg encased, communal television keeping all the other kids in his room away most of the time. He’d enjoyed their company at first, but then he envied them the more they exercised (literally) their ability to walk even from their bed to the vending machine. The realisation that his summer had abruptly ended was only just starting to dawn on him.

Mabel had been appropriately sympathetic, but Gruncle Stan hadn’t. One of the first things he’d said was, “You’re a _stupid kid._ Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to jump off rooftops? Well, I hope you learned your lesson. Enjoy the rest of your summer.”

From that, he could gather that Robbie hadn’t exactly stepped forward to say sorry for pushing him off a roof.

\--------

Mabel was scheduled to visit, about 6 days after he’d been admitted. There wasn’t a lot to do, so he was napping around the time she came in.

“Wow… You look so rough.”

He smiled, coming awake at the sound of her voice. “You say that every time you see me now.”

She smiled back. “How are you doing, bro? Are they giving you lots of ice cream?”

“Mabel, I don’t think people actually get a whole lot of ice cream in hospital. But, I’m doing OK.” He yawned and looked around the room. “I’m, ah… getting a lot of time to myself.”

“To think about the consequences of your actions,” she said, mocking an adult’s serious voice.

“Yeah, uh… About that…” He trailed off, staring at her. He wasn’t exactly secluded with her in their bedroom, but this was the most alone time he’d had with her in a week. He was thinking about telling her what had really happened, and how she would react. He thought it was about time he told someone.

Mabel stared right back at him. “Are you OK, bro? …Is there something on my face?” She raised a finger and prodded around the ‘Get Well Soon!’ sticker she had stuck to her forehead for all the sick people in hospital to see.

“No. I mean, yes, but that’s not what I… Hey, Mabel.” He was really struggling to conjure up the nerve to tell her. They were usually lucky enough to evade these kinds of ordeals; he’d never had to tell her something this big that she didn’t already know. But they’d been through a lot this summer, become a lot closer than they used to be back at home. There was no reason why he should keep this to himself anymore. “Can you… ah… I have to tell you something.”

“Shoot,” she said, leaning her elbows on the edge of his bed. She looked excited more than apprehensive, and it was throwing him off.

“Umm… Look, I don’t know what you heard from Gruncle Stan or Wendy or, whatever… But, I didn’t...” He turned his head towards the sound of a couple of kids running, laughing through the corridor, and a nurse consequently telling them off.

Mabel looked behind her, saw what was distracting him, and she pulled the curtain all around them until they were fully enclosed with pale sea-green fabric. “There,” she whispered. “Now no one knows we’re here.”

He laughed nervously but then he cleared his throat, tried to find some resolve. “OK, umm… OK, first, please promise me you won’t tell _anyone_ what I’m going to tell you.”

“Well, that depends on what you tell me, doesn’t it?”

“No, just-! It doesn’t depend on anything!”

Mabel could start to see that her brother was looking far too stressed about this disclosure. She tried to be serious for him. “Dipper, you’re kind of freaking me out. Just tell me already and let’s talk about it.”

He calmed down. He steeled himself and just came out with it, voice low. “You might have heard that, when I was out with Wendy and her friends, I fell off a roof… But, I didn’t fall. I was pushed.”

“ _What?!_ ” she cried out, loud and shrill. Dipper twisted to the side as far as he could go with a restrained leg to cover her mouth and shush her repeatedly. She continued to yell, muffled, into his hands. She looked utterly disgusted and outraged.

“Mabel! You _have to lower your voice!_ ” He let her mouth free and stared at her imploringly, fidgety and discontented. “Just be cool, alright?”

“Be cool?” She looked shocked and much less angry now. “How can I be cool with this, Dips? You’re my brother and you were pushed off a _roof!_ ”

“Yeah, I… I know,” he conceded, sighing.

She stared at him then gestured maniacally for details when he didn’t immediately offer any. “Well, was it an accident? Who was it? And why has everyone said that you stupidly thought you could jump off a roof and land nimbly on your feet? What’s going on?” she demanded.

“I didn’t even _want_ to jump offthe roof,” he cried defensively. “I was trying to get to the ladder but Robbie was like ‘bet you’re too scared to jump off the roof’ and I said ‘are you kidding? That’s like a twenty feet jump’, and I _thought_ that he was leaving me alone, but then he… threw me off.”

“Dipper, you could have _died._ You could have broken _every_ bone in your body!”

He made a hesitant face. “Probably not. But yeah, I could’ve done a lot more damage.” He lowered his voice to an angry mutter, “I wonder if Robbie was counting on it.”

“You should tell on him.”

“What? _No!_ ”

“Dipper.” She tried to be gentle but stern. “If you don’t then I will. What Robbie did was _wrong._ ”

Dipper yelled unintelligibly; he threw his hands out in her direction, grappling and clawing the air around her desperately. “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

“I made no such promise! Besides, even if I did… I’m sorry bro, but you can’t seriously expect me to keep this kind of secret, can you?”

“Mabel-!” He grabbed her arm and held her in place, even though she had made no signs of wanting to leave. “Look, you’re my sister, and I don’t want to hide things from you. But I don’t want you telling anyone!”

“Not even Wendy?”

“ _Especially_ not Wendy!”

She was taken aback, pulling her arm free of him. “Dipper, you know if you tell her then she wouldn’t hang out with him anymore, right? If he did that to you then… Who’s to say he’s not going to do something similar to someone else.”

“He doesn’t hurt other people,” Dipper muttered, turning his head and lowering his eyes. “He hates me, because he wants to be with Wendy, and I’m getting in the way of that. He’s just… a normal teenager around his friends. He hates me because he thinks I’m just a stupid loser kid.”

Mabel gasped. She bunched his hands up in hers and looked at him with earnest wide eyes. “Dipper, you are most definitely _not_ a stupid loser kid.”

Dipper snatched his hands back, pulling an irked face. “Yeah. I know. _Thanks_.” He sighed morosely into his fists. “Besides, I… I can’t tell anyone _now._ It would look so bad! It would look like I just made it up – that I said Robbie broke my leg just to get out of trouble for doing stupid things with teenagers. They’d ask, ‘why did you wait so long to tell the truth?’, and Robbie’s a teenager so his words will _always_ hold up against mine. And then, when everyone thinks that I’m a _liar,_ Robbie will come back and beat me up for trying to tell everyone about it. It’s just… It wouldn’t work, Mabel.”

Mabel looked at him sympathetically. “How do you know if you don’t try?”

“Well, I don’t… But, I’d rather just let people think that I’m really bad at jumping off rooftops than risk people thinking that I’m a liar.”

It was quiet between them for a while. A catchy theme tune to a popular kid’s show began to play from the communal television down the corridor, drowned out by the intermittent cries of young children when they thought they knew the lyrics. Everyone else in the room was gone.

Eventually Mabel put her hand on his and smiled tentatively at him. “Maybe we can get him back in _other_ ways.”

Dipper scoffed. He looked like he was going to discourage her from trying it, that he was going to concede defeat and keep his head down and not start any more trouble. But then he peaked up at her and asked in a low voice, “like what?”

She tipped her head back, beaming with pride. “I have a large arsenal of vengeance to work with. I’ll think of something good.”

He smiled. “Thanks, Mabes. You gotta run it by me though, before you execute it. You have to spend at least _some_ time with me while I’m cooped up in this stupid room for the rest of the summer…”

She put her hands to his cheeks and held his head in place while she kissed his birthmark. “Of _course_ I’ll spend time with you, bro! You big silly. I’m not just gonna party all the time and invite my friends around for sleepovers and jump on your bed while you’re gone!”

Dipper was unimpressed. “You’re having a sleepover tonight, aren’t you.”

Mabel looked deviously happy. “It’s going to be so fun not having you around to grumble at us!”

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Well, I hope you and your friends have a good time.”

“Thanks, bro.”

“Oh – hey, do you think you could bring me some of my books next time you visit? There’s not a lot in the way of reading material here…” He directed his attention to a travel guide mag sitting on his beside table. It had been the only thing within reach.

“Leeet me guess… you want your crime and mystery books, right, Mystery Twin?”

He chuckled. “How did you know?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get ‘em for you. I’ll try not to leave you out of all the fun mysteries that will inevitably spring up on me.”

“I guess that’s going to be the hardest part,” Dipper sighed. “You’re going to go off and discover all the mysteries in Gravity Falls, and I won’t be around to see them.”

“I’ll take pictures for you,” she promised, laughing. “But seriously, bro. I think you shouldn’t worry about that too much. Your first priority should be healing that broken leg of yours.”

“Yeah. You take care too, sis.”

Mabel kneeled on the edge of his bed and wrapped her arms around him. Their hugs had become a whole lot less awkward over the summer. He liked being close and affectionate with his sister without it being weird. She gave him a loud smacking kiss on the side of his face, which he jokingly rubbed off, and then she disappeared under the curtain.

Dipper sighed, resting his head back against the pillow. He was feeling a bit cold with no sun on his bed. “Huh,” he said. “Should’ve gotten her to pull the curtains back…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's bring this one back

Almost two weeks had passed now. Dipper had been through a couple of physiotherapy sessions and he was making good progress, so much so that they told him he was ready to be released from the hospital soon. He couldn’t wait to get home, to be back with his sister and Stan, Soos, and…

He always felt his stomach drop whenever he thought about Wendy. He hadn’t heard from her since the day he broke his leg. The last time he even saw her was when she was helping him up onto the ladder of that decrepit house’s roof. No, wait – he remembered. The very, very last time he saw her, she was standing over him, clutching her face, screaming in fear while he cried and cradled a broken leg.

“Oh, man,” he muttered, hiding his face in the mystery book he’d been reading. He actually felt embarrassed to remember how he reacted in front of Wendy. He’d been trying so hard to build up this image of himself as a courageous and nimble guy, who could probably take a tumble once in a blue moon and just pick himself up and brush himself off like it was nothing. But he very clearly remembered screaming on the way down, and crying – at _least_ for the first two minutes. Even as he was taken to A&E, he was sure he was still blubbering like a baby. He’d been reassured plenty of times that no one would think he was overreacting to his first broken bone, but still. He couldn’t help but wonder maybe if he had tried to take it all a little better, maybe Wendy would visit him.

He’d asked after her plenty of times when Stan or Mabel visited. Not in a “oh, good, you’re here, now tell me _everything_ Wendy’s been up to” kind of way; he waited for lulls in the conversation, he waited for naturally-occurring and opportune times to mention her. But he’d gotten similarly vague answers every time, about being busy or needing some time to process what had happened. He always felt like his family was speaking for her, rather than relaying any kind of real message from her.

It made him kind of sad to think about – sadder than he would admit to anyone. He missed Wendy a lot. He would’ve been coping a hell of a lot better if she was around. She always knew how to pick him back up, how to make him laugh, how to keep him entertained. He didn’t want to put any onus on her – god, no. He just really, really missed her.

So, understandably, he was _thrilled_ when she was the one to appear in the hospital corridor. If hearts could leap right out of bodies, his would have landed on the patient’s bed opposite him. “Wendy!” he cried, sitting himself up hastily. He fumbled his book onto his bedside table and pulled his cap over his perpetual bed-hair. God, it was so hard to maintain appearances when he was bed-ridden all day; he could only hope that he didn’t look as gross as he felt. He beamed at her and she gave a small, petrified smile back.

“Hey, Dipper,” she said quietly, slowly coming toward his bed. She was wary of the other patients in the room but most of them seemed to be wrapped up in their own activities. Still, she held the curtain and asked, “can I?” and he told her to go ahead. She pulled the curtains all the way around them both, and it was stupid, it was _so_ stupid and inappropriate, but Dipper’s heart still skipped a beat like he thought she would kiss him.

It felt like hours were passing agonisingly between them, how slow and meticulous Wendy was as she pulled up a chair and sat down. It made him nervous, uneasy. He’d been so happy to see her face but clearly, in her face, she wasn’t happy to see him. She smiled, but he knew she wasn’t happy. “How’ve you been?”

“Uh… Good. They think they can let me out really soon.”

“Yeah? That’s great news.”

“Yeah, it is… This place is so…” He gestured in an attempt to explain what this place was. “Lonely? Ha, I mean, it will be good to be back at the Shack. Mabel can be my nurse.”

She laughed, but it wasn’t her usual laugh. She was so strained in everything she did. It wasn’t like her at all, and it was getting him down – more down than he felt when another day passed where she hadn’t visited him. He wanted to make her feel better, but he had absolutely no idea how. Usually _he_ was the one people had to make feel better.

“How have you been?” he asked, and her shoulders slumped with a sigh. “Mabel and Stan told me you’d been… too busy to drop by. Which is totally fine, I mean, I _completely_ understand, and I don’t expect-“

“It’s not that, Dipper,” she murmured. She wasn’t looking him in the eye. “Look, the only reason I waited so long to see you in here is because… I’m just so _guilty._ ”

He blinked at her. “Guilty? Guilty of what?”

“It’s all my fault that you’re even in here.”

He didn’t understand. He stared at her, incredulous. “It’s not your fault, Wendy.”

“ _Yes,_ ” she said, louder and more forceful this time. She looked right at him and there was anger and pain in her eyes. “Yes, it is. _I_ invited you to hang with us, and _I_ forced you to go into a creepy, old, falling-apart building just to score some gems. I was so _stupid_.”

“No, no!” It was killing him to watch her. Clearly she’d been kicking herself over this for quite some time. “Wendy, no, you didn’t force me to do _anything._ You asked and I said-“

“But I never should have asked!” She made an effort to control the volume of her voice. “You could’ve _fallen through_ the roof, or, or there could have been a dead body lying up in that bedroom, or some kind of _crazed_ axe-murderer could have been hiding there – _so_ many things could have happened!”

“But none of those things _did_ happen.”

“No, instead you _fell off a roof_ and _broke your leg._ And I _hate_ that I let that happen to you.”

Dipper felt like his heart was breaking. He reached out for her hand and gripped it tight. “Wendy… Look, you are in _no_ way responsible for what I did. OK? _I_ was the one who…” He hesitated, remembering Robbie’s mean glare and his hands pushing the ground right from under his feet. He forced himself to lie. “Who decided I could… look cool to skip the ladder and jump to the ground. You don’t need to blame yourself for _my_ actions.”

Her eyes were shinning with tears. “Yeah, I do. I let you get hurt. I should’ve been watching you.”

She lowered her head and let go of his hand. She discreetly tried to wipe at her watering eyes. “Wendy,” Dipper murmured. “You know, when… when you say that kind of thing, it… makes me feel like I’m just a little kid.”

“But you _are_ a kid, Dipper! You’re ‘technically not a teen’!” Her response had come so fast and so unabashed; it was a huge blow to Dipper’s ego. He felt exactly like a little kid in that moment, getting reprimanded for ever thinking that he could have a chance with her, that he could ever be seen as an equal. “I should’ve known better than to invite a kid to hang out with a bunch of teens! It was too dangerous and you got _fucking hurt –_ oh!” She stared, wide-eyed, and shook her head. “Don’t tell Stan I swore in front of you.”

Wow, he thought, she couldn’t even feel comfortable enough to swear in front of him. It was awful, but he sort of wished now that she’d never come. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I won’t tell him.”

“Dipper?” She put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry. I understand if you can never forgive me.”

“But I never _blamed_ you,” he said. But he sighed, seeing her earnest expression. “I… yeah, I forgive you. Of course, I forgive you.”

“I promise you,” she picked up his hand and squeezed it, and it surprised him. “When you are back in the Shack, I will be your personal slave. I will wait on you hand and foot, day and night. I will be on call for you, I will move fridges for you, I will even cut your toenails if that’s what you want. I will do everything I can to ensure the rest of your summer doesn’t go to waste. I will do anything to make it up to you.”

Dipper didn’t know what to say. He was sure his face was burning bright red as he thought of the hundred ways he could abuse that kind of power, but he quickly put them out of his mind. This looked like a serious proposition. And when she said ‘anything’, it went without saying that she didn’t actually mean _anything._ “R-Really?”

“Really,” she said, smiling, and she looked a lot like her old self again. “Anything for my best bud.”

“Umm, well,” he laughed, feeling his happiness return again. “I’d really like it if you could… just, hang out with me? I mean, if you’re too busy then-“

“Anything for you, dude,” she said, and Dipper swore he would’ve swooned if he wasn’t already propped up against several pillows. He laughed giddily and grinned like a besotted idiot.

“Tomorrow,” she promised, already starting to leave her chair. “I’ll be here the _second_ visiting hours are on. I’ll take Nintendos, magazines, board games, candy – the works. I’ll make sure you don’t get lonely until you can finally leave this sanitized jail-bed.” She pulled back the curtain and looked back towards him as if something had just occurred to her. “You know… I actually feel a lot better after talking with you. I can’t believe it took me this long to actually come here.”

“Same here. I mean, I feel better too. I missed you a lot.” He smiled, and she smiled painfully back.

“I’m so sorry for just abandoning you like that, Dipper. That was… pretty terrible friend etiquette.”

Dipper waved it off like the weeks of isolation and immeasurable boredom were nothing, and they felt like nothing compared to this moment. “You’re making it up to me, remember? Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” She smiled, winked at him, and turned to take her leave. He watched her until she was out the door. He lay there, on his bed, practically squirming with delight and hope. Tomorrow sounded like a goddamn trip to Disneyland compared to the usual monotony of exhausting himself doing simple maintenance tasks and then alternating napping and reading before his longer night-time nap. He couldn’t wait. He honestly couldn’t wait. Things were awful, but then they got so, so much better.


	4. Chapter 4

Wendy had made good on her promise. The next morning, before Dipper had even finished his breakfast, Wendy strode confidently into the room and grinned at him as she emptied a backpack full of candy, crisps, games, and books onto his lap, and he laughed like the overjoyed maniac that he was. He was the envy of every kid in the children’s ward that day, easily.

Wendy stayed with him for the entire day. Dipper couldn’t believe it. Every time that she put a game away and he thought that she was starting to pack up to go, she pulled out another game and taunted him: “bet you can’t beat my high score”. He hadn’t had this much fun in weeks, probably even months. It was exhausting him – it was a lot more laughing and sugar and activity than he was used to – but he just couldn’t stop. Every second he spent with Wendy made him feel alive again. He barely even noticed that his leg was broken, except when Wendy adorned his cast with little doodles.

It was around late afternoon that she started, drawing little trees and lumberjacks and axes with red and green pens. She had asked him, “does it hurt?” and he had laughed and told her that it was fine. Still, he watched her and how careful she was being on his cast. She moved so carelessly sometimes, batting things to the floor without noticing and punching his arm just a little bit too hard, but she was so gentle when it came to his injury. He was almost entranced by her tenderness.

She had been playing him some of her music from her MP3 player, with the earbuds hooked between the two of them. Wendy rocked her head and drummed her fingers in time to the beat, mouthing lyrics here and there. Dipper recognised two, maybe three songs from her playlist, and even then that was only because they were more recent, inescapable hits. But he made a decent effort to like her music. He didn’t know what kind of music he liked himself, but he was starting to like the stuff that was blasting into his right ear.

That was, until the next song. It had poor audio quality, it was too loud, and too… _ugly._ “Oh, man,” Wendy laughed and put her earbud into Dipper’s other ear, presumably so he could get the full aural experience of this song that he hated. Hearing the other side of it didn’t make it sound any less terrible. “It’s one of Robbie’s songs,” she said over the thrashing cymbals, the whining guitar, and the death growls. “You know his band? Robbie V. and the Tombstones? This is them!”

Dipper felt nervous just hearing that guy’s name, let alone his music. It was too fast, too loud, and he felt like Robbie was screaming at him, right in his ears. Dipper remembered that band poster, with Robbie leaning over a tombstone with the words “YOU’RE DEAD!” plastered across the bottom, and he felt the blood drain from his face and his body grow tense. It was hard to make out the lyrics for the stupid growling voice that Robbie used, but each verse just felt like a series of threats. Dipper wasn’t sure if he was to take them literally or not, after what Robbie had done. They could very well have been literal.

He stared at Wendy, not knowing what he was supposed to do. He couldn’t figure out if Wendy even likedRobbie’s music or not. Before the song had even finished, Dipper took the earbuds out and adjusted to the calm and the quiet of the room. “I think my ears are bleeding,” he mumbled.

Wendy laughed. “I _know,_ right?” She picked up the MP3 player and browsed through it. “His music is so messed-up sometimes.”

He felt so awkward asking. He felt so awkward even acknowledging Robbie’s existence in front of her. “Do you… like his music?”

She thought about it for a while. “Nah. Not really. I like _some_ songs? I like ‘Kill Me, Hardly’ and ‘Flesh To Dine For’.”

He laughed, shrill and nervous. “OK, those have to be some of the creepiest song titles I’ve everheard.”

“Oh, they get _way_ worse, believe me. But he says he’s working on a song for me, and he says he’ll try to make it as tolerable as he can. I don’t know, man – I think it’s pretty sweet of him to do something like that for me.”

“Yeah? Ha… yeah.” Dipper could’ve sworn they were talking about entirely different people. “Pretty… sweet. Of him.”

He stared at her sadly. Her fingers absently intertwined with small chains and gems at her collar, just under her shirt. Dipper narrowed his eyes, peering closer. Oh, no. He recognised that necklace. He felt his heart sink lower and lower by the second.

Wendy caught him staring and she brought the necklace out of her shirt in full to show it off. It was the same teal-gemed, silver-chained necklace that Dipper had hand-picked for her in that abandoned house. He could have died from humiliation. “Isn’t it lovely?” Wendy asked, smiling. She looked down at it, and the way she played with it was almost fond. “Robbie found it for me. Up in that bedroom you were in.”

“Really.” He gritted his teeth, attempting a smile. Telling Wendy what had really happened now would only make him look pathetic, petty. But he sure as all hell wanted to right now. “That’s… great…” He watched her smile and leave the necklace out of her shirt. “You seem really… happy, whenever you’re with him, or talk about him, or…” He shrugged like it was no big deal. But it couldn’t have been a bigger deal. “Whatever.”

She shrugged right back. “I don’t like labels, you know, because everything is _always_ changing and evolving.” She didn’t see because she was still going through the MP3 player, but Dipper threw the most baffled expression he could her way. He didn’t quite understand what her abstract statement added to the conversation, but she thankfully elaborated. “Look, I know what you’re trynna ask, and Robbie and I aren’t an official thing. We aren’t even dating. We just hang out together a lot and shoot the breeze and watch movies and get dinner sometimes.”

“Wow. That… sure sounds like dating to me.”

“There’s a lot more to dating than that, Dips. _We_ do all those things – who’s to say you and I aren’t dating?” She laughed and after a short delay, Dipper laughed too. It was loud and forced and lasted too long, and every second of it took his embarrassment levels to new, never-before-seen heights. His face burned redder than he could convincingly pass off as something other than his immense humiliation. She ruffled his mousey hair. “Dude, chill. It was a joke.”

“Yeah,” he said, sobering up. “I-I know. It… was just so funny! So… Um. You said, ‘official’? Does that mean that you’re… unofficially together? Sorta… off the record, or something?” His wasn’t getting any less red so he decided to stop talking.

She stopped whatever it was she was doing and looked at him. She looked quietly piqued. “Did he tell you to ask me for him?”

“What? _No!_ ” Dipper started to regret reacting so quickly. He would’ve had a better chance at sabotaging their relationship if he’d said yes. “I’m just asking! You don’t have to answer, though, or anything, if you don’t want…”

She smiled a bit. She leaned in closer. “Robbie’s been going all out lately. He’s brought me stuff, he’s writing stuff, he’s been getting me free tickets to bands I don’t really care about but hey, it’s free so why not… He must really like me but I’m just not sure I want to get into another relationship just yet. I’m kinda enjoying being single, ya know?”

“Enjoying?” Dipper laughed like it was such a foreign concept to him.

“But, I mean, if he thinks he can win me over by buying cool stuff for me then I’ll let him.” She dug something out of her bag and equipped her eyes with a flash new pair of sunglasses. “That’s his choice and all.”

Dipper chuckled. She looked so cool. Far too cool for him. “But… could still happen?”

Wendy pushed the glasses up over her hairline and winked at him. “The future is a mysterious thing, man. Who knows what will happen, or where we’ll end up, or who we’ll end up with? Anything’s possible.”

“Yeah,” Dipper agreed. He tried to see it as a comforting thought.


	5. Chapter 5

A few days later and Dipper was already back in the Mystery Shack. He’d been so happy and relieved to come home, but his enthusiasm was unmatched by Mabel’s excited screaming, jumping, and the clouds of glitter that welcomed him through the front door. Though, most of it ended up on Gruncle Stan.

“Alright, _alright,_ ” Stan grunted, attempting to shield himself from the glitter that rained down on him. “That’s _enough,_ Mabel. Why don’t you make yourself useful and take your brother to his new bedroom.”

“New bedroom…?” Dipper asked and Mabel grinned, her eyes gleaming. She ran back and forth ahead of him, like a restless puppy who wanted their owner to run with him, while he awkwardly clunked and swung his way into the Shack. He’d never really noticed just how narrow some walkways were until now. He’d only been on his crutches a couple of minutes and already he was exhausted, feeling like he’d just navigated a maze.

Eventually he was led into the living room. Or what had previously been the living room. “Tada!” Mabel cried, presenting it proudly.

“Wow,” Dipper muttered, impressed. It had been transformed. The television remained but a couch from upstairs had replaced Stan’s chair and a long coffee table had been set up in front with a variety of essentials covering it. Pillows and sheets covered the couch, simulating a bed, and a lamp was standing at the least pillow-heavy end. “This is amazing, Mabel! I can’t believe you guys did this all for me.”

“Pfft!” Mabel waved him off. “Are you kidding? You _really_ thought we’d let you keep sleeping in the _attic_ while your leg was still healing?”

“Ha ha,” he laughed, running a hand through his hair. “No, I guess not… Should I sit down?”

“No, not yet! We have to have cake first!”

“Cake?” And suddenly Dipper felt _starved._ The kind of starving that could only be sated by cake. He hobbled into dining area as quickly as he could where not only Stan, but Soos and Wendy were also seated at the table, waiting for him. They all turned their attention to him when he entered the room and smiled, and he felt like it was his goddamn birthday.

“Hey guys!” he greeted them, fumbling his way down into a chair. He grinned. “Wow, you’re all here. This is so great!”

Wendy punched him in the arm – too hard, as always, but he was beyond caring. “You think we’re all here for _you,_ Dips? To celebrate your recovery? Nah, I’m only here because I was promised cake.”

“Same here,” Mabel added, poking out her tongue.

“Just so you know,” Soos put his hand on Dipper’s shoulder. “I would’ve come here to welcome you home regardless of whether there was cake or not.”

Dipper smiled. “Thanks, Soos.”

“Well, kid,” Gruncle Stan started with a sigh. “You ruined the rest of your summer. But they’ll be plenty more to ruin in future. You’re a good kid. Troublesome – but good. And I’m glad you’re doing OK.”

Dipper could almost feel tears pricking at his eyes. It seemed like he’d been forgiven. “Thanks, Stan.”

Stan smiled gently at him but it didn’t last long. Sensing a tender, mushy, emotion-heavy moment between them, he cleared his throat and let his customary glare settle back deep into his face. “What are you all looking at?” he demanded and the others giggled. Stan picked up a knife and plate and starting serving himself a big slice of cake. “Everyone shut up and eat your cake before it eats you.”

Dipper couldn’t describe how nice it was to be back.

\-------

One of the greatest things about being back in the Shack was that he was rarely left alone. Sure, he had been constantly surrounded by whinging children, concerned parents, several nurses and the odd doctor or two, but they didn’t quite have the same presence as friends and family. Even when he was visited, they would go in a group, or one on behalf of the others. But at the Shack, one person’s company was replaced by another’s almost immediately. It was like they were terrified he’d end up right back in hospital if he was left to himself and his own devices for even so much as five minutes.

“Can I get you anything, brothest _dear_?” Mabel cooed, perched at his side.

“Not really,” he laughed. He shrugged. “You’ve already done everything you can for me. I mean, I really appreciate you trying to do so much for me, but there’s really nothing-“

“Oh, please! I’m your _sister_ – that’s pretty close to Fairy Godmother. There has to be _some_ thing I can do for you.”

“W-Well… Uh…” He cracked a smile. “Well, it’s not like you could in any way accelerate the healing process, so-“

“ _On it!_ ” Mabel shouted, tearing out of the room.

“Uhh-!?” Dipper scrambled to sit up and peer out the window, mouth agape, as Mabel ran into the woods. He had absolutely no idea what she thought she was doing, but it made him laugh.

Wendy edged into the makeshift room very carefully then. “Sheesh,” she muttered. “I almost got completely bowled over by your speeding sister there. She could’ve put me in hospital – then you and I would have matching broken legs.”

Dipper nestled back down in his couch, beaming up at her. “Hi, Wendy.” …That was it. That was all he could say. He was quite sure something clever would occur to him and find its way out of his mouth, but all he did was grin like a fool.

She simpered right back at him. “Hey, man. Mind if I have a seat?”

“Sure! Go ahea- _ack!_ ”

She dropped down onto his stomach, wound her arms around the back of the couch, and put both her shoes up on the coffee table, one after another. She sighed with satisfaction. “Well, I find this comfy. How ‘bout you, Dips?”

He laughed, gasping a little for air. It wasn’t painful where she sat on him, or in any way caused his leg harm; it was just a lot of pressure and particularly a lot of pressure in a place he was embarrassed for her to sit. His face went hot and red in a matter of seconds and she settled in a little further. He was sure she was doing this on purpose.

“Hey!” he cried, still laughing, and tried to shove her off. “I changed my mind! You can’t sit there!”

“I can’t?” She feigned surprised hurt. “You expect me to sit on the floor? Like some kind of animal?”

“Wait, wait…” She jumped up off him and he shuffled himself down, putting his cast off the arm of the couch. He kept his upper torso straight, offering her a good chunk of the couch space behind him. “Is this OK?”

“ _Sweet_ ,” she sung, taking a seat behind him, so close that her shoulder was pushed right up against his back. He stayed stock-still for a couple of seconds, feeling incredibly awkward being this bunched up to her, feeling like he needed more couch to retreat to. “Dude, it’s OK to lean on me,” she said, throwing an arm casually over the back of the couch. “I’m cool with it.”

She might have been cool, but it still took Dipper an agonising amount of time to feel comfortable leaning his back on her. And by that time she had already opened his bag of chips and started scoffing them. “W-Weren’t you working?” he asked.

“I’m on my lunch break, dude,” she said around a mouthful of chips. She picked up the remote and turned on the television. “I got half an hour to refuel and my show’s about to start.”

As it turned out, the show in question was one of those ‘filmed in front of a live studio audience’ programs where five people posing as doctors answered medically-concerned questions from their audience members. Dipper imagined that it must have all been staged, or else filmed in a very uninformed Western area, because the responses that were being unquestioningly accepted were just ridiculous. Ten minutes in and Dipper was already clutching his aching stomach muscles, tears in his eyes. He laughed so hard that he slipped off Wendy’s shoulder and fell back into her lap – which sobered him up pretty quickly.

He stared up at Wendy from where his head lay in her lap. She had barely seemed to notice. Or perhaps she didn’t mind. He wanted to sit up but he didn’t think he could do it without her help and he was too petrified to ask.

She caught him looking up at her, all wide-eyed and stony-faced, and she smiled. “You alright there, Dips?”

He didn’t even think about his answer. “Yep,” he replied, clearly not.

She held up a chip to his mouth. “Want one?”

Again, he couldn’t think. Didn’t think. He opened his mouth and she fed him, like he was a pet goat. Like he was someone she was intimate with. He smiled as he chewed, unable to understand what was happening or why it was happening. In all their time spent together, they had never been this close for so long. She even dropped an arm to _lay over him,_ for crying out loud.

He suddenly didn’t care about how hilarious the show was, or the fact that his snacks were being stolen, or even that his leg was badly in need of support. She was directly underneath him, over him, around him. He was in her arms. He couldn’t even take a breath without knowing that she felt it. Everything just seemed… fantastic.

And then, just like that, it wasn’t.

“Hell-o-o?” A voice came from the main shop area. Dipper was frozen in fear. He hoped like all hell that it wasn’t Robbie. But it sure did sound like Robbie. “Hello? Mr. Pines? Wendy?”

“ _Ughh,_ ” Wendy groaned, and Dipper knew that his worst fear was coming true. He watched, haunted, as Robbie slouched into the room, hood up, hands in his pockets, guitar slung over his back. He smiled ever-so-slightly at Wendy and then his lidded gaze dropped to her lap. The expression on his face changed just so gradually; his eyes bulged and his teeth bared, like an animal getting ready to pounce. He looked like he wanted to tear Dipper’s head right off his body.

Wendy made no attempt to move Dipper or herself. That was the worst part. He couldn’t stop doing the thing that made him the target of such aggression.

“Robbie,” she sighed. “I thought I told you that Mr. Pines doesn’t like it when my friends visit me at work. You should go or you’re gonna get me in trouble.”

She wasn’t looking where Robbie was looking. She didn’t know that he was staring down the boy lain across her, glaring with the intensity of a thousand promised hells. “Am I… interrupting? Something?” he asked, tone picking up in the most interrogative way.

“Yeah, you’re interrupting the greatest show on television!” she cried, gesturing to the screen. “C’mon, man, just clear out of here. I’ll see you later, OK?”

He shifted his gaze back to Wendy – finally – and it softened a little. “We’re still on for tonight?”

“ _Yes!_ Have I txted you to say that we aren’t?”

“Well, it’s just that you didn’t confi-“

“ _Ughhh,_ Robbie.” She straightened up and Dipper’s head got a little knocked around. He felt like a mouse scared out of its wits. “It’s _fine_. OK? I’ll _see you later._ I’ve only got another four minutes to finish off the rest of these chips before my break is over! And – look, you can’t even be back here anyway, alright? You’re interrupting Dipper’s peaceful rest and upsetting the healing process.”

Dipper grimaced. He really wished she hadn’t said that, or at least put it in such meek and helpless terms. Even if Robbie _did_ still miraculously have a shred of respect left for him, it was gone now.

Robbie scoffed. “Well. I wouldn’t want to… get in the way of his _recuperation_.”

“Exactly.” Wendy didn’t sense one little bit of sarcasm in that whole sentence. “So! Would you kindly?” She pointed at the door, sending him out as if he were a bad dog. Dipper would’ve taken far too much glee in this moment if he weren’t still achingly petrified, pinned under Robbie’s vengeful stare. He kept that stare on him until Robbie had left the room.

Even once Robbie was gone, Dipper still felt like he couldn’t relax. His muscles has seized so tightly that it was impossible to un-tense them. Something about the way Robbie had looked at him conveyed the message that he really is dead. Or, he would be.

Wendy picked him up by the shoulders and propped him back up into a sitting position so she could get up. “Sorry about that, Dips,” she apologised, licking her fingers of salt and vinegar flavouring. “He can be _so_ annoying sometimes – always showing up at my work, at my house for the most _stupid,_ clingy reasons. Anyway,” she checked her watch, “break’s over now. Thanks for the chips.” She ruffled his hair and winked, a somewhat customary farewell gesture for her now, and she walked back to the register.

Dipper leaned back on the couch, resting against the warmth where her body had just been. He didn’t know how to feel, except terrified. He didn’t like that Robbie could just walk into his house like that, uninvited. And he _especially_ didn’t like it that Robbie now knew where he was, where he was confined to for at least a couple of weeks, recuperating.

He didn’t like it. Just the very thought of it was starting to make his leg throb.


	6. Chapter 6

Dipper had spent the rest of his day trying not to think about Robbie. It would’ve been all too easy in the hospital to spend entire afternoons thinking about him, so he was incredibly thankful that there were more than enough distractions within the Shack to keep his mind off such things. He didn’t think about the origin of his broken leg or who Wendy was out with at all.

…That was, until nightfall. Until the lights went out. Then there were no limits to his surprisingly morbid and ghastly imagination. He didn’t see Robbie as just another moody teenager anymore; in his mind, Robbie had the potential to be so much more.

It didn’t help that it was a windy night either, and in an old house. He jumped at every battering of the window, his blood ran cold whenever a door creaked. He was constantly fighting for control over his own breathing, and after a while it was starting to have a toll on his mind. He saw hooded-figure shadows move along the floor and – that was it, that was what finally made him screech his sister’s name.

He heard her from all the way up in the attic, and she mobilised _fast_. She bounded down the stairs at breakneck speeds, her footsteps getting louder and louder. She ran into the room, holding a lantern out in front of her, spotted him amongst the darkness, and collapsed herself at his side. “Dipper!” she cried, drawing in deep breaths between words. Her eyes looked tired but wide-awake with alarm. “Dips, are… you OK?! What’s wr… wrong?”

He couldn’t help but feel guilty. Already he was starting to feel at ease again. “I’m sorry, Mabel,” he murmured. “I just… I guess I just got…” He looked at the floor where the moonlight and branches had cast terrifying shadows just moments before. Looking at them now, he didn’t even know how he could have mistaken them for a hooded figure. He felt ridiculous. He felt like a scared little kid.

“Dipper?” Mabel set down the lantern and stared at her brother sympathetically. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“Ah, no,” he admitted. “I… thought I saw someone outside my window, but…”

She peered out the window for a moment then set her eyes back on him. “I can go outside and check for you.”

“What? _No!_ ” He grabbed her before she could even think of getting back up. “Mabel, are you _crazy?_ What if there is something out there! …and, even if there isn’t… what if there _is!_ ”

“Dipper.” She took his hand off her and stared at him like he was being just a tiny bit dramatic. “ _Loooook_ , it’s late. It’s your first night sleeping in a new room of the house. Maybe your eyes are just playing tricks on you.”

“ _I_ – ugh, yeah, maybe.” He looked down at his hands and looked ashamed. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “Bro, you didn’t scare me – you _terrified_ me! Seriously, I thought you were being impaled with a hot red poker or something from the way you screamed. I realise _now_ that that was just your voice breaking,” – he shot her an irked look – “but I still assumed the worst and got down here as fast as I could. Because, what if you were in trouble?”

She smiled at him kindly and Dipper smiled back. “Geez, Mabel… you’re so much braver than I am.”

Her smile faltered. “What, you mean you wouldn’t do the same for me?”

He panicked. “What? No – I mean!”

“If I was screaming and potentially in mortal danger?”

“I would, of _course_ I would, Mabel! Uhm… If I had to, that is.”

“Ha ha. I’m just teasing you, bro.” She nudged him lightly on the chin then turned her attention to the window. “That window’s going to be really distracting in the morning, too. We should look at getting some curtains for you. But! In the mean time…” She flipped on the lamp light and while Dipper was shielding his eyes, she was casting around for some kind of fabric. She found one of Stan’s old jerseys and used two pins to hold it over the window. She stepped back and smiled a job well done. “There! Now you can stop wetting yourself like a baby over some moving twigs.”

“Hey!” he cried hurtfully, shoving her arm and she shoved him right back, twice as hard. “If I’m overreacting so much then why don’t _you_ try sleeping down here.”

“You want me to sleep down here with you, bro?”

He tried to frame it in a more appealing way. “Sleepover in the lounge?”

Her eyes widened with restrained excitement. She was definitely on board now. “Sleepover in the lounge,” she repeated affirmatively, nodding.

\-------

Dipper didn’t know what he would’ve done without his sister. He would’ve made it through the rest of the night, he supposed; either the exhaustion would’ve conked him out eventually, or he would’ve stayed awake and terrified long enough to see the sun rise. But she was so _good_ for his mental health. She stayed up with him talking for just the right amount of time before he could easily drift off to sleep. And as thanks, she had 24-hour access to the goodies and snacks people gave to Dipper every time he missed out on a sunny day.

She kept it up for a couple of nights, always keeping him company. But it didn’t take very long for Stan to figure out what was going on when he got up one early morning to check on his great-nephew, only to end up almost tripping over his great-niece. He hadn’t been in a very sympathetic mood after being one misplaced step away from crushing her.

“But Gruncle Stan!” Mabel had protested, clinging to her brother’s arm, defending him. “Dipper _needs_ me down here! He gets scared when he’s here by himself at night!”

Dipper groaned. He knew what was coming next. “Scared? You’re _scared?_ ” Stan mocked, towering over him. “What the hell are you scared of, kid? You’ve been living here for how many weeks now? You’re used to sleeping in the _attic_ for Christ’s sake – ain’t no place in this house scarier than that!”

Dipper murmured, “Gruncle Stan, that’s not true and you know it.”

“Gruncle Stan, would you _please_ let me stay down here?” Mabel begged. “I won’t sleep in the middle of the room anymore – I’ll move my hoard of blankets to the corner!”

“Sorry, kid,” Stan gruffed, softening up as he turned to her. “This ain’t about your sleeping habits anymore, it’s about his.” He turned back to Dipper and he settled a cold glare on him. He was so much more severe on Dipper than he would ever be on Mabel, and it wasn’t fair. They were twins, they couldn’t be any more equal than that. “He’s not a little boy anymore, and it’s about time he started acting his age. He needs to learn how to sleep alone. You both can’t sleep in the same room together all your lives, that’s creepy.”

“ _Staaa-aaaaann!_ ” Mabel cried but Stan cut her off.

“Mabel, _enough_ of your whining! Just do as I say – both of you go back to bed now!”

He stood there, huffing angrily, and Mabel moodily picked herself up and stomped out of the room. Dipper stared up into his Great Uncle’s callous expression, not knowing how to react. “Sorry,” he murmured, hoping that would make him back off.

And apparently it did. Stan went through to the kitchen for a drink of water and then went back to bed, flipping the living room light off as he did.

Barely five minutes had passed since Dipper was awake and alone downstairs, and he felt just as threatened as he had the first night back home. And he couldn’t stop thinking about any hooded figures that might’ve been lurking outdoors.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 (AKA the only chapter since the first where anything of importance and/or interest actually happens ahahaha)

Exhaustion usually claimed him around two in the morning. After hours of re-reading some of his favourite mystery novels, with all their subtle forewarnings and clever red herrings, the book slowly lowered onto his chest. His head gently fell back into the soft pillow. He fell asleep so abruptly that he barely had time to turn off the lamp.

When he next woke up, he had no idea why. He thought he’d heard a loud noise – then again, the book he’d been reading was no longer with him. It had probably dropped to the floor. Yeah, it was probably that. As he began to regain a little more consciousness, he noted that he was staring into a dark room. Funny, usually he left the light on all night… he hadn’t remembered turning it off.

Actually, the room wasn’t completely dark. Pale moonlight was beaming onto the carpet from the window. He craned his neck and saw that, yep, the ‘curtain’ had fallen off. Damn.

He freed his arms from his blankets and rubbed his eyes. He shivered. His skin pricked with goose bumps and he felt a cold breeze pass over him that made his heart stop. He looked at the window again, peering closer, and saw that…

The window was open. _Wide_ open.

He was completely frozen in fear. He had no idea what to do, what was happening. He panicked; he couldn’t run upstairs like he wanted to, and his dry throat closed up whenever he opened his mouth to scream. But he had to _move,_ he had to do something. What if his family was in danger?

He shakingly reached out for the lamp and fumbled for the little switch. For a couple of soothing seconds, the familiar room was bathed in a warm yellow light. But then the lamp went out as it was unplugged from the wall.

Before Dipper could even gather enough courage to scream for help, a hand savagely appeared over his mouth. He looked up at his assailant – but all he saw was that hooded figure, towering above him, black and silhouetted against the light of the window. He screamed, muffled, into its fuzzy hand.

“Shut _up_ , you little runt,” the figure said, and Dipper had no doubts now about who it was. Robbie brought his stinking face closer and shined the light off his phone just underneath his chin. “ _Boo_.”

Dipper struggled, with all his might, but Robbie barely let him move. Within seconds, he had Dipper’s hands restrained, his mouth firmly covered, and he was leaning over Dipper’s abdomen, preventing him from sitting up. He kept struggling even though he knew it was futile; Robbie was a neurotic, _psychotic_ teenager, and Dipper was just a little kid with a broken leg. He couldn’t hope to maintain any control over the situation.

“Guess who, little D,” Robbie said in a semi-hushed voice, pulling back the hood from his face. He looked so smug. He looked like he’d just _bested_ him in a game, or executed some kind of prank on him. He didn’t look at all like a guy should’ve after he’d just broken into a boy’s home and restrained him. “Just thought I’d… drop by and see how your, uh, _recuperation_ was going.” He pulled the blanket up over Dipper’s cast to stare at it. He scoffed. “Looks like _shit. You_ look like _shit._ ”

Dipper quietened down and lay still, though his heart was still pounding. He’d been staring into the darkness long enough now that he could see Robbie, but he still didn’t know what the hell he was going to do. He didn’t know if Robbie intended to break his other leg, or if he was just going to insult him all night.

“You know,” Robbie sighed, leaning in closer and closer. Dipper was painfully aware of the fact that Robbie had been drinking. “Wendy hasn’t called me in a few days. I’ve left her, like… a _million_ messages, but she doesn’t ever get back to me. I don’t... I’ve bought her stuff, I’ve written songs for her, I’ve done all kinds of favours for her… I’ve done damn-near _everything_ for her… and still, she spends all her time here in this dump _._ What… What a _bitch._ ”

Dipper no longer felt so afraid for himself; his cheeks flushed with anger. Now he felt furious enough that he wrestled with Robbie to get one hand free and pointed at his mouth as a silent demand to let him speak.

Robbie narrowed his eyes at him. “You got something to say to me, you little worm?” he demanded and Dipper faltered only a _tiny_ bit before nodding. “Alright, fine. _But,_ ” Robbie’s grip tightened on his restrained arms, making Dipper whimper in pain. “If you scream or call for help or _anything_ then I will _make you regret that you ever did…_ ”

Ensuring that the threat had got through to Dipper, Robbie peeled his hand away from Dipper’s mouth, letting his arms go too. Dipper collected his thoughts for a moment before he spoke in a quiet, wobbly voice. “Y-You do realise that Wendy spends a lot of her time h-here because she w-works here, right?”

Robbie grabbed Dipper by the collar of his shirt and yanked his back up from the couch. He looked so menacing. “Do I look stupid to you, runt? Of _course_ I know she works here. But she spends all of her afternoons and days off here, too. She spends all that time _here with you._ ”

“Because we’re friends,” Dipper protested.

“Friends?” Robbie let Dipper fall back on the couch. He looked like he was trying not to laugh. “ _Friends?_ You think that you’re friends with a _teenager?_ ” He smirked, and it looked so _evil_ on him. “You’re so delusional. God, I almost feel _sorry_ for you, you don’t even know just how pathetic you really are. What makes you think Wendy would ever, _ever_ want to hang around a stupid little kid like you? You’re just a burden. She invited you out to party with the gang, and you got yourself hurt in under thirty minutes. You just can’t hack it with us.”

“But…” Dipper’s voice was quieter now. He tried to find some resolve, some conviction to his words but he just couldn’t, and he knew it would only provide Robbie with more ammunition. “She… But, we hang out a lot, and it’s fun.”

“ _Fun?_ Spending all her time inside, playing games, and eating _junk?_ That’snot Wendy’s idea of fun, you dolt! She loves the outdoors! She knows how to throw axes, how to climb trees using only her _belt_ , how to go camping. Her kind of fun is breaking into old houses and stealing the crap the owners left behind – the exact same kind of _fun_ that you broke your leg on. She’s a million times more butch than you’ll ever be.”

Dipper could feel his stomach plummet into the floor. He tried to think that Robbie was just lying, just telling him nonsense to make him feel horrible about himself… Well, even if that was his intention, it was working.

“The only reason she hangs around a little indoors rodent like you is because you _begged_ her to. She’s never gonna say _no_ to your face because she’s too goddamn _guilty_ that she brought you out once and you fell off a roof the _second_ she wasn’t babysitting you. That’s all any of your ‘hang-outs’ are – just _babysitting!_ ”

Robbie grunted, taking out his phone and checking a txt he just received. He laughed a little. Dipper couldn’t believe this guy. He sat stunned for a moment and then he started to ruminate. His mind worked against him silently and swiftly; it blindly accepted and validated everything Robbie had just said. He was overwhelmed with that familiar sad, sinking feeling inside his torso. The kind of feeling he felt often, and always in relation to his perceived relationship with Wendy. She was only three years older than him – almost four – but they were stuck in a time when that age difference was the most marked. He felt so incompetent, so… immature.

And then he was feeling defensive. “You know,” Dipper started angrily, watching Robbie pompously flick his hair. “They’ve done studies that prove having a lot of hair over one eye turns it _lazy_ because you can’t _see out of it_.”

Robbie looked up from his phone and carefully put it back in his pocket, all the while keeping his gaze on Dipper. He looked madder than ever. Even so, it still delighted Dipper to see that Robbie was making a conscious and not-so-subtle effort to keep his hair out of his eye. “What did you say to me, you little twerp? Want me to find a cliff for you to haul yourself off next time, you stupid lemming?”

“Y-You know, you keep making it sound like _I_ was the one who broke my leg,” Dipper murmured darkly. “But I think we both know what really happened.”

“Yeah, we both know what _really_ happened,” Robbie said. “You were stupid enough to jump off a roof because you wanted to look cool in front of Wendy – even though you’ve got about as much appeal as a _toddler_ to her. And you _purposefully_ landed badly so that you’d break your leg and try to scam as many sympathy points off her as you could. I watched it all happen.”

Dipper stared at him. He couldn’t work out if Robbie thought he was being funny, or if he was actually _insane_ and believed that story on some level. “What kind of _psychopath –_ other than you, _obviously_ – would hurt themselves to manipulate others? _You_ threw me off the roof, and _you_ are the one who _broke my leg!_ ”

“And yet you haven’t told anybody.” He scoffed, and Dipper faltered. _Really_ faltered. “Almost as if you don’t quite believe it yourself. Hmm? Why else wouldn’t you have told anyone by now? Why wouldn’t you have told _Wendy?_ ”

Dipper was sure that he had had a good reason at the time. But for the life of him, he couldn’t remember it now. He felt scared all of a sudden, unstable even. He tried to speak, but nothing came out.

“Well, it’s not like you can tell anybody now,” Robbie continued. “You’d just be a little horrible _liar_ if you told anybody now… Because I _didn’t_ push you, did I.”

It wasn’t a question. Dipper tried to protest it. “But I _felt_ you-“

His mouth closed up all on its own. Robbie’s face was just inches from his now. His one eye was wide and piercing. His voice was low and urging. “I _didn’t_ push you. _Did. I._ ”

Dipper stared back and it seemed as though they stayed like that for the longest time. It was intense. Dipper wanted it to end, and he felt like the only way it would is if he conceded. If he let Robbie win. It was like he wanted Dipper to admit that he wasn’t at fault and it was all his own, _right_ to his face. It wasn’t enough that Dipper had already changed the story he told everyone, no, Robbie wanted him to _actually believe it,_ too.

“O-kay…” Dipper nodded, awkwardly confused and afraid. “You… didn’t.”

“Exactly right,” Robbie said and he grinned, leaning back. He took one last look at his phone before he stood up and stretched out his lanky form. “Anyway, it’s been just _swell_ talking to a little rodent for this long. Glad we had our little chat. So, uh, to recap…” He cleared his throat and listed the points off on his un-gloved fingers. “Wendy hates you, you’re a screw-up, and _don’t_ be a liar or else…”

Robbie hummed a little tune as he walked to the end of the couch, and Dipper sat up nervously to see what he was doing over there. He pointed to Dipper’s unharmed leg and smiled up at the boy. “Or he’s next. Got it, kid?”

Dipper couldn’t speak. He just nodded. He watched as Robbie put his hood back up and scrambled through the open window, closing it up behind him. The last parting gesture he made before he was gone was flipping Dipper off.

Dipper didn’t think he could sleep for the rest of the night – how could he after that? He tried to calm down. He tried to find something to take his mind off of everything that had just happened. He tried to turn the lamp on only to remember that it had been unplugged from the wall. He wanted to call out to Mabel to plug it back in for him – among other things – but he was too scared of attracting Stan’s attention and incurring his wrath. He wanted to _eat_ but all his snacks were out of his reach. He wanted to _leave this room,_ but he knew that leaving the room wouldn’t change anything.

He ended up watching three-in-the-morning television sitcoms, with the volume turned way down. He sat there, watching the near-silent programs, the room flickering with cold, hard light. With no interest or investment in the programs, he watched them. He watched them until dawn.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *casually brings this back from the dead*
> 
> Special thanks to Kiiouex for being beta and also telling me not to leave unfinished fics because it's rude <3

“Dipper… Dipper?… _Dipper… Dipper!_ ”

Dipper woke with a huge start. He blinked to see Mabel was standing over him, hands on his shoulders, looking a lot less enthusiastic than she usually did in the mornings. In fact, she looked quite the opposite.

“Are you OK, bro?” she asked.

“Yeah, why?” Dipper answered habitually. He sat himself up a little and rubbed at his eyes, and there were a _lot_ of dry, crusted tears there. Oh _God_ , had he been crying? Yeah, it was all coming back to him now. He remembered that he’d been crying through the night, and he found himself feeling a lot more ashamed about it now that Mabel was staring at him. He tried to rub them all off until he left the skin around his eyes pink.

“Were you watching TV _all_ night?” Mabel asked.

“Hm?”

“The TV, Dips.” She turned and pointed to the box. “It was on when I came downstairs just now, and you were asleep.”

“Oh, right…” Clearly Dipper didn’t give himself enough credit. As it turns out, he _can_ still fall asleep even after being threatened and tormented by a deranged teenager. “Ugh, sorry.”

Mabel stared at him like he wasn’t quite himself, and it was probably true. “If Grunkle Stan knew that you’d been watching TV all night, he’d… _geez,_ Dipper, you’re so lucky I came down here before he did.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

He didn’t sound nearly as grateful or remorseful than he should’ve, would’ve been. He was far too tired to care and he could see it was starting to test his sister’s patience. She narrowed her eyes at him and said, “Maybe I should tell him that you were up all night.”

That small threat didn’t alarm him – not like a broken leg could. He rolled his eyes, “Fine, _whatever_.”

She struck a face that was halfway between confused and disgusted. “What’s _wrong_ with you today, Dipper? You’re usually so happy to see me when I come down first thing. Are you just grouchy because you’re _tired,_ or did you have another nightmare, or…? Help me out here, bro.”

God, he wanted to help her out. He wanted to tell her everything that had happened last night. But he was scared to. And he supposed it didn’t quite look like fear to Mabel yet, not without context. It probably just looked like… moodiness. Petty and ignorable moodiness.

He stared down at his lap and swallowed hard. “Can… I have a glass of water?”

She looked disappointed but she still left him with a sigh and headed into the kitchen. When she came back in, she noticed that there was more sunlight in the room than usual. “Hey… your curtain fell down,” she pointed out, setting down the water on his little table and going over to inspect the knocked-off tacks. “That’s weird. I checked it was pretty secure yesterday… hm.”

“Probably just fell down in the night,” Dipper mumbled into his glass before taking a drink.

“The _window’s_ open, Dipper,” Mabel sighed, bringing it fully closed. She shook her head. “Geez. This is really weird; I don’t ever remember leaving it open.”

“Well, _obviously_ you must’ve, Mabel,” Dipper snapped before he even knew the words coming out of his mouth. “Because how else would it be open?”

Mabel didn’t respond. After a few moments of silence, he twisted his head over his shoulder to look at her, and she was staring straight back at him with that same impassive, pointed expression she often used on him when he deserved it. “You are grouchy today,” she remarked. “Maybe you should’ve spent less time watching TV and more time sleeping last night.”

He was far too tired and upset to deal with this right now. He couldn’t help himself. He gritted his teeth and said, _“Thanks,_ I’ll keep that in mind. Anything else?”

She stared at him, her face falling little by little. Then she started to walk out of the room. “You should get some rest, bro. Sleep off the tetchiness.”

She left. Dipper grabbed a pillow out from underneath him and pressed it to his face and groaned into it. She’d only been trying to help him, he knew. He wished he hadn’t been so snippy with her.

But not as much as he wished last night hadn’t happened.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping this story can be finished in another 2 chapters?? hopefully???

He spent the day watching reruns of sitcoms. Terrible sitcoms. Terrible sitcoms that were terrible even by Gravity Falls standards.

He heard Wendy come into the Shack around midday. It made him feel a little giddy and warm inside to hear her laugh, but then he froze. She wasn’t alone.

Robbie was laughing too.

She strolled into what was steadily becoming his new bedroom. She smiled and gave a lazy wave. “Hey Dips. How’s the leg?”

He opened his mouth to answer but then–

“Yeah, _Dips.”_

That wasn’t his voice.

He watched, unmoving, as Robbie walked in around Wendy and casually swung an arm around her shoulders, the other digging deep into the pouch of his hoodie. He smiled at Dipper crookedly and flicked some greasy hair out of his eyes. Dipper couldn’t even tell anymore if Robbie was purposefully intent on looking like a complete and total douchebag, or if it was entirely incidental.

But he decided he was a little too scared to care about that right now.

 _“How’s the leg?”_ Robbie parroted her, then scoffed. He curled the arm around Wendy’s shoulders to bring her a little closer to his face. “C’mon babe – gimme a kiss before you start work in this dump.”

An irrational, hot anger Dipper already knew was jealousy flared right through him as he watched Robbie kiss her, unabashed, right in front of him. Wendy’s eyes stayed open in surprise, and Robbie’s eyes stayed open too. But they weren’t on Wendy. They were on Dipper. Slitted. _Jeering._ They seemed to say _“you can’t have her”._

The way he grabbed her around the waist said _“she’s mine”._

Dipper scowled.

Wendy shoved him away abruptly and Robbie whined as the back of his head hit the wall. “Dude,” she said, wiping her hand across her mouth. She looked almost as disgusted as Dipper felt. “Seriously, stop doing that.”

“Right, right.” Robbie turned his head to smirk at Dipper. “Not in front of the _kid,_ right?”

Dipper deepened his scowl. He knew Robbie was just trying to get a rise out of him, but he liked to think he wasn’t nearly as immature, or as much of a possessive _asshole_ as that guy was. Dipper tried his best to ignore Robbie. He mumbled, eyes sliding right over him, “I’m fine, Wendy, thanks for asking.”

“Yeah no one cares, twerp.”

 _“Ugh,_ would you _shut up?”_

She pushed and shoved at Robbie until he was back out of the room, but even on her end it all seemed so… playful. Sort of frivolous and romantic, like Robbie had somehow finally managed to win her over, and they really were an official couple now. Even after Wendy’s adamant claims that she wouldn’t ever throw that particular dog a bone…

He so desperately wanted to ask her _why_. He wanted to know what Robbie had said or done in the past couple of days that had made her change her mind. But he knew that who Wendy decided to date – or not date – was her business and not his. It wasn’t his place to tell her that she shouldn’t even be within a few feet of Robbie, let alone let him _kiss her–_ but he wanted at the very least to tell her that she deserved someone a _million_ times better than _Robbie V_.

Dipper didn’t think he was imagining it. It was all there. The way Robbie was treating her right now, it wasn’t at all affectionate. It was just… boasting. Flaunting. Taunting. Like he cared more that he’d _won_ Wendy, like some kind of prize, more than he actually cared about her.

And it made Dipper sick.

“Hey,” she called out to him and from the way he flinched it was clear that he’d phased out a little. She chuckled. “You alright, man? You’re acting all spacey today.”

He forced a smile and shrugged. “Just… tired. Is all.”

“Too tired for our Wednesday night movie marathon?” She waggled her eyebrows at him and he couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s the _Cereal Killers_ series this week. I’ll bring the popcorn and you can provide some kind of real estate that isn’t the floor. I know you got a broken leg and all but _c’mon –_ there’s no way we can’t both fit on that couch.”

He felt a gradual, warm swell in his chest the more and more she made plans with him. Like she actually _wanted_ to spend time with him.

And then Robbie reappeared again to ruin everything.

“Hey, wha– what about us, babe?” Robbie cried from beside her. Dipper took no small delight in watching her turn away from him and roll her eyes, just for Dipper’s amusement. “What if _I_ wanted to watch lame movies about killer breakfasts with you?”

“I already know that you _don’t,_ Robbie, because you think they’re so lame _._ But they’re not lame. I mean, yeah, OK, they’re _lame –_ but that’s what makes them so _good.”_ She turned a small smile onto Dipper. “Dipper gets it.”

Dipper had just been about to agree when he caught sight of Robbie’s icy stare. And the words just got stuck in his throat.

“Uh, Wendy, those films go _way_ past little Dipper’s bedtime.” Robbie leaned around her to fix Dipper with a gaze that was somehow even more severe than the last one. His teeth looked gritted, his eyes incensed. “And little Dipper is just gonna get _tired and cranky_ the latter he stays up. He really should be getting more rest and _recuperating.”_

Wendy laughed, _“ha,_ no way. Dipper can handle it. Right, man?”

Dipper didn’t know what to say. He stared at them both, torn and panicked. He was on the receiving end of two very different, simultaneous expressions. Wendy’s was so lovely, and encouraging, and _friendly,_ and…

And Robbie stared at him like he wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around Dipper’s good leg and snap it in two.

Dipper craved spending more time with Wendy. Last week’s movie marathon had been so _fun,_ and he didn’t want to disappoint her and make himself look like even more of a baby than he already felt. But he didn’t really have a choice. Robbie had already proved he could break into the Shack and make good on his threats. Dipper didn’t need another demonstration of that. He didn’t need convincing that Robbie was a dangerous guy to mess with.

He looked away from her. “Sorry, Wendy,” he murmured. “I… I’m doing something else tonight. Sorry.”

He glanced back just in time to see Wendy shrug. “Whatever,” she responded nonchalantly, like she hadn’t minded either way. “I’ll find someone else to watch _Cornflake’s Revenge_ with me then.”

Dipper gave a fleeting smile. Yeah. He was sure she would.

It didn’t take one second for Robbie to enthusiastically volunteer himself.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote 'Roobie' instead of 'Robbie' on more than one occasion :V whooopsss

Dipper ended up watching the marathon by himself. But he wasn’t watching it, not really. He still flinched whenever a suburban mother screamed shrilly, and he chuckled, “what the hell,” when the neighbourhood of tragically 90s kids had to band together to defeat their delicious and nutritious enemies by throwing milk at them. But he ended up missing over half of each film. He’d been spending far too much time just thinking about Wendy, and wondering if she was watching these films right now, and who she must’ve been watching them with…

He tried so hard not to think about it, but he still did. He pictured her there, on her bed, laughing at all the bad green-screen effects, losing her composure over the terrible dialogue, ranting and raving about how full of holes the overarching plot was. He imagined that Robbie was right there with her, annoying her with his constant barrage of “this is stupid” proclamations.

He thought about Robbie trying to kiss her, when she clearly didn’t want him to, and it made Dipper clench his can of Pitt cola a little too tightly.

“ _BLARGH–“_

_“Ahh!”_

“– _I’m a scary bran flake! Fibre is good for you!_ Hahaha!”

Dipper groaned, heart still racing, as Mabel laughed. She ran into the room and jumped up onto the arm of the couch closest to Dipper’s head. _“Mabel,”_ Dipper whined, “don’t _do_ that, OK – you always yell way too loud.”

She simpered down at him. “I think you mean to say, ‘don’t do that because you always _scare me_ and make me scream like a girl’.”

Dipper narrowed his eyes and shifted away from her, looking back to the TV. “Yeah whatever.”

She looked there too. “Which one’s this?”

_“Rice Bubble Attack.”_

“…These films are awkwardly named, aren’t they?”

“Tell me about it.”

She was quiet for a while, which Dipper appreciated, before the film got a bit too slow and he noticed her turn back to him for some conversation. “So I ran into Robbie today.”

Dipper sighed. “Y… Yeah?” he asked, not sure whether he wanted to hear the rest of that story – unless it ended with Robbie’s misery or humiliation in any way.

Mabel still told him anyway. “Uh-huh. He hangs outside the Mystery Shack now, waiting for Wendy to finish work. I was just taking Waddles back home from a walk when I saw him. I still hadn’t really forgiven him for pushing my best bro off a roof and breaking his leg and all, _soooo_ I had an idea.”

Dipper quirked an eyebrow, looking over to her. She was grinning back at him now, somewhat mischievously. He was hesitantly curious to hear where she was going with this. “…What idea?”

“I said to him, ‘hey, _Robbie,_ you wanna see Wendy’s absolute _faaa_ vourite thing to do during her breaks? She might even be over there right now!’ And he did his too-cool-for-you hair flip thing and called me a ‘twerp’ – seriously? That’s the best jibe he can come up with? – but he still followed me all the way over to the Bottomless Pit… _Heh._ ”

Dipper gaped at her. “No,” he murmured. “You… You _didn’t,_ right?”

“Didn’t what?” She winked at him. “I certainly didn’t _push him_ into the Bottomless Pit, if that’s what you’re getting at. He _jumped._ Just like _you jumped_ from the roof. And I watched it happen!”

 _“Mabel.”_ He grabbed her sweater sleeve, his eyes wild and searching and panicked. His heart started beating too loud and fast again. “Mabel, you’re not seriously telling me you _pushed Robbie into the Bottomless Pit?”_

“Yeah, I did.” She tried to yank her sweater out from his hand, but he wasn’t letting her go. “That guy is _awful_ for what he did to you so I got a little vengeance. He’s _fiiiine –_ he came back to the Shack about an hour later; I checked. What’s the big deal?”

Dipper felt like he was hyperventilating; he couldn’t breathe enough to say the words he needed to. “Mabel, you shouldn’t have _done that, he’s gonna-!_ He’s… H-He’s gonna be so mad with you! Oh man, _Mabel,_ you don’t know what you’ve _done–“_

She pushed him away the more he clung to her. _“Calm down,_ Dipper! What’s wrong with you? Why are you acting this way? I thought you’d find it funny!”

“He’s _dangerous, Mabel!”_ He very nearly shouted at her. “He pushed me from a _roof_ just because he had a problem with me and Wendy, and _now he’s-”_

He shut his mouth.

“He’s _what,_ Dipper?” Mabel pressed. She almost wouldn’t have picked up on it if Dipper hadn’t cut himself off so suspiciously, like he was coming so close to telling her something he shouldn’t have. “…What’s he done now?”

Dipper shook his head helplessly at her; he could feel his eyes start to tear up. He didn’t know what to say. His voice was starting to sound choked and small. “Mabel, you shouldn’t’ve done that, you shouldn’t’ve…”

_“Why?”_

His good leg was already starting to feel as pained as the other one. He didn’t feel safe anymore; he shot a fearful glance at the window behind him. The makeshift curtain had already been put up, but that hadn’t stopped Robbie before.

He swallowed. “Can I sleep back upstairs,” he asked suddenly. “Please? I-I don’t wanna be down here. We should stay together tonight, and then every other night after that.”

“Dipper, you’re really freaking me out.” She slipped off the arm of the sofa to crouch in front of him. Her entire head was blocking the TV but he didn’t care; he wasn’t watching it anymore. He _wished_ his problems were about as terrifying as monstrous breakfast cereals. She stared at him so earnestly and asked, “Are you scared Robbie’s going to hurt you?”

“He _will_ hurt me,” he blurted before he could stop himself. “He threatened to break my leg if I ever told anyone what happened and _now he knows_ that I told _you_ what happened and _now he’s gonna come back and–“_

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up.” She put a finger to his lips to silence him. She looked so confused. _“When_ did Robbie threaten you? You’ve barely seen him!”

He allowed himself to be shaky and a little breathless for a few seconds. And then he came clean.

“He… A few days ago, he broke in here, while I was sleeping. He came through that window,” he pointed behind him, carefully avoiding her gaze, “and… he weirdly tried to convince me that he _hadn’t_ pushed me off a roof. And then he told me that Wendy _hates_ me, because I’m just a stupid kid to her, and he threatened to break my _other leg_ if I ever told anyone what he’d done… but _Mabel,”_ he groaned into his hands, “Seriously, why would you _do that –_ why would you just mess with him like that? He’s probably gonna come back here, tonight, and… he’ll… _he’ll…_ ”

He yelped as his twin grabbed both sides of his head and lifted his face up to her. He’d never seen her look so serious, and it terrified him.

“Dipper,” she said evenly. “We have to tell someone.”

He paused, only for a few seconds, before blowing up at her. “Didn’t you just hear me? I said Robbie is gonna _hurt me_ if I tell anyone!”

“Which is precisely _why_ we’re gonna tell someone, Dipper,” she urged. She shook his head a little, still between her hands. “He’s been _terrorising you_ all this time and you’ve just been keeping this to _yourself?_ You should’ve told Wendy or Grunkle Stan, like I said! I know you were afraid that no one would believe you, but would you rather just let Robbie _bully you_ like this? Because that’s what this is, Dipper. _Bullying._ Like… abuse, almost. It’s _wrong_ and it needs to stop before it gets anymore out of hand.”

He stared at her. He knew that she was right. There was no point in contesting her.

“Mabel,” he said, and he sounded so small and wounded. He reached out for her and she took his hand. “Mabel, I just… I don’t want him to hurt you too.”

She huffed a little. “No one’s gonna hurt me, bro. And _he’s_ not gonna hurt you either. If he even lays a finger on you, I will _destroy_ him.”

A noise halfway between a sob and a laugh flew out his mouth. He glanced up at her. She had a determined look in her eye, like she had an idea of what needed to happen next, but Dipper had no clue what that was. He didn’t know what should’ve happened now. He just wanted to hand the reigns over to his sister so that he couldn’t mess up any more than he already had.

She must’ve seen there were tears on his face, even in the darkened room. She brushed one of her sweater sleeves over his eyes gently. “It’s gonna be OK, Dips. You’re not awful or even as childish as Robbie says you are. He’s just a monster.”

Dipper scoffed. “No, he’s a _teenager.”_

“Oh.” Mabel paused. “Well, that’s even worse.”

He laughed a little and she gave him a small bop on the head. He was starting to feel a lot calmer, about everything.

And then he remembered that Wendy was with that monster.

He asked in a rushed voice, “Mabel, do you have Wendy’s number?”

She squinted at him. “You… really think it’s an appropriate time to call Wendy?”

“She’s with him right now,” he cried. “W- I-I mean, at least I think she is. They’re dating now and I _know_ that Wendy wanted to watch this marathon,” he gestured the TV, “with me, but Robbie made me decline, and now they’re both probably at her place, and he’s probably still really angry about what you _did_ to him, _and…_ ” He took a breath. He stared up at her, panicked all over again. “I saw him earlier, Mabel. He doesn’t _respect_ Wendy. What if he hurts her too?”

Mabel shook her head. “Didn’t I say that if you told Wendy what was going on she’d stop hanging around a terrible guy like that?”

 _“Number,_ Mabel!”

She sighed, but she didn’t waste any time dashing out of the room. Dipper waited anxiously, slowly directing his attention back to the film, but it just seemed so stupid and frivolous, compared to the gravity of their current situation. He couldn’t get into it, even for just the few minutes it took Mabel to come back with a cordless phone and a small bit of paper.

“Had to get it from Grunkle Stan,” she supplied. She sat on the floor in front of him and began entering the number into the phone.

“H-Hey!” Dipper leaned as far forward as he could and tried to make a swipe for the phone. “Why are _you_ calling her?”

She finished dialling and put the phone to her ear. She looked at him and answered smoothly, “Because you’re obviously still a huge dork for her and you’d never say a word.”

Dipper wanted to argue with her that he wasn’t nearly _that_ pathetic, but he didn’t bother. He just sat there, feeling indignant, letting his face grow hot.

He picked up the remote and turned the volume way down. It was quiet for a few seconds before Mabel spoke brightly, with a huge smile. “Hi Wendy! It’s Mabel… Yeah, heh, just me. Grunkle Stan isn’t calling to tell you you’re late for work or anything… Yeah, um, I know it’s late? Buuut do you think you could come over here? To the Shack? It’s pretty important… It shouldn’t take long… _Don’t_ bring Robbie– wait, actually maybe…” She glanced up at Dipper and he started adamantly shaking his head a _no._ “Yeah, sorry, don’t bring Robbie. Get rid of Robbie… Well, it’s _about_ Robbie. And Dipper… Yeah… Thanks Wendy! See you soon!”

No sooner than she’d hung up, Dipper demanded to know, “What did she say?”

Mabel sat the phone down and smiled up at him. “She’s coming over, Dip-Dop. Said she’d be here in about twenty minutes. She’s just gotta shoo Robbie out of her house first.”

Dipper made an uneasy expression at her. He felt like there were worms swimming around in his stomach, but Mabel’s little pats were reassuring and kept him sane. “So,” he murmured, “we’re… gonna tell her?”

Mabel nodded. “We’re gonna tell her.”

Dipper felt spikes of something harsh shoot through him. Like a cross between overwhelming relief and inconsolable fear.


	11. ABANDONED

Hey guys

So a few of you have been asking lately if I'll ever finish this, and I'm really REALLY sorry to say that... well. it's been almost a year since I updated and almost TWO years since I first started this fic. my writing has improved drastically (I hope) and I've moved onto other fandoms, so there's really no chance I'll finish this one now.

That being said, you guys definitely deserve some closure at the very least, so here's a brief outline of how I had planned to wrap up the story: 

Wendy goes over to talk to the twins about Robbie, and Mabel eventually encourages Dipper to confess to all the bullying and intimidation and outright violence that Robbie's inflicted on him. Mabel backs him up, and Wendy is pissed. She tells Dipper that Robbie isn't going to get away with this. There's supposed to be a lame joke in there about her CALLING HIS PARENTS, and, yeah, she does exactly that, because they're all just kids, dealing with one extremely manipulative and dangerous kid. So Dipper is relieved/safe at last, Wendy breaks up with Robbie, and there's probably a hi-larious scene in which Robbie's parents show up at the Mystery Shack to apologize for their son's outrageous behaviour and force him to give a very begrudging apology to Dipper. Robbie is whisked away to some juvenile facility, Dipper's leg heels up, and Wendy asks him in a very PG way if he'd like to hang out more. Curtains close, happy ending.

Okay... I think that's it? Feel free to chat with me if you want - my tumblr is over [here](http://telekinesiskid.tumblr.com/) ;) once again, I'm really sorry I couldn't get this one finished. writing atm is hard enough without trying to finish years-old fics I barely remember >D;;

take care my friends <3

**Author's Note:**

> You know, I tried to write Robbie with just a bit of profanity to his speech, but I just couldn't do it. It didn't feel right. Abusive teenager throwing kids off of roofs? Yeah, I'm down. Said abusive teenager casually using the f-word? Well, hey now, that's just about going too far.
> 
> Edit: remember that one time I confused 'paraphilia' for 'paraphernalia' haha yeah - thanks to the bro who corrected me


End file.
